where her dreams led

"Martha! where are you? Christine is not getting any better. We have to take her to the doctor. There are no signs of a fever but I think she might be ill or something. I’ll look for an appointment." I said to my wife. Christine was now crying even harder and I could not understand what was wrong. She had no fever nor was she hungry. She was not stopping and I was now starting to get worried. She had never cried like this and I was going numb. "Oh, for lord's sake George just pick her up already! It’s time for her to go to sleep. If you would have stayed home more often you would have understood her routine and the reasons behind her little tantrums by now. you do remember you have a one-and-a-half-year-old daughter waiting to be picked up by her father more often but you are so busy with work to even have time for our child. She needs love George; confirmation that you are there for her. You don't know what she has been going through the past whole week and I am not even able to do anything about it." she said and a tear rolled down her cheek. Christine had by now stopped crying and was tentatively looking at her mother as if she understood what we were conversing about. "wait, what? what do you mean by that? what's wrong Martha?” I said. She did not reply but instead started picking up the toys Christine had dropped. Then she picked up a rattle and gave it to Christine. Her face brightened and she started shaking it making it hit my shoulder. Every now and then she would look at me giving me the naughty smile making my insides flutter with happiness at her adorableness. At this Martha’s face lit up but then it instantly saddened. She looked at me and I knew it. Something is not right. “what is it that you are not telling me? Martha, tell me," I looked at my daughter and then at my wife; the two people who matter to me the most and right now she was way beyond terrified which made chills run through me. holding Christine, I looked up at Martha and asked what I was dreading, "it's them, Isn’t it?" I stated as if I had known it all along despite my emotions falling apart. Martha slightly nodded as she lifted her tear streaked face. my definite stance finally crumbled and I was about to collapse but stood clear since Christine was in my arms. she had gone asleep and looking at her I could not control my tears that came down and were leaving wet marks on my little angel's blanket. "what should we do now?" I asked her in a mere whisper so as not to wake up my angel. Martha stifled a sob and wiped her tears. "in the last week, she has been very quiet. when I place her in her cot she would just move into the corner and stare. when I call her name, she would not move or react. I would move my hands towards her to pick her up but she would not even look my way. then all of a sudden, she would start crying just like she did today and I would pick her up cradling her in my embrace to calm her down but she would not stop. then if I would place her back in the cot she would stop immediately. this would happen every day for a few minutes just like she started crying today. but when you picked her up she calmed. I don't know but I do not seem to be having that effect on her even for some time now though I am her mother but it feels as if she gets scared of me. George I’m scared. she stops responding to me while to you she doesn't. that is why I want you to be with her more often." she broke down once again and was now sobbing hysterically while I sat beside her on the couch; helpless. I had all the finance and resources yet I was impotent and defenceless. "I’ll ask my office stuff to be moved here and we'll place the baby's cot here in my office at home so that she will be with us at all times. you should call your father about this, he might be able to help us. I’ll try to come home early but you should call your father or your sister to stay with you while I’m away. in the meantime, I’ll try to manage work from here while your sister is not here. let’s get Christine to bed." I said and got up but Martha stopped me saying, " there is one more thing," she paused looking at me, "there is a mark at the back of her neck which looks very much like the one I got after the incident I told you about before Christine was born. but there is a problem; it was not there till yesterday. this morning while taking her for a bath I saw it. I’m scared, George. I’m scared that I’ll lose her; that I’ll lose my child to some violence that occurred way too long ago before even I was born. father had told me about it when that mark started to burn but whatever the reasons, I’m worried for our daughter, George. what should I do?" she was now quavering. adjusting Christine on one arm, I took her hand and led her upstairs. it had already been a tough day and Martha had been through a lot having seen stuff I could not even imagine. so, I took her to bed and we decided to call it a day, silently praying for all the troubles to be over soon and that our daughter remains safe and sound. it was almost midnight when we woke up to the sound of Christine laughing and then she stopped. her eyes were closed but her tears were coming down her cheeks. Martha picked her up and hugged her to her chest to comfort her. Christine stopped crying and put her arms around her mother's neck and said, " ma-ma", her eyes still closed. a loud shriek came from Christine's mouth and there was silence. That is when we realised we could not stop this. Only one person could help us while keeping it all confidential. “Call my father,” Martha said and I knew what we were now up against.